My Dark Indulgence
by yuuka-hanamaya
Summary: Somewhere along the journey the darkness inside discarded it's dormant nature and claimed dominance. But how, exactly, did thing's lead to this cessation? Viewed first from the Exile's point of view and then from her companion's, we shall find out. DSF Exile
1. Prologue

Eh... I had originally intended for this to be a oneshot, but then I found that it felt like each character deserved their own chapter. Nine chapter's (not including the prologue or possible epilogue) will make up the entirety and each will be uploaded as soon as they're done.

* * *

Meetra sat, seething, silently in the place where Kreia was an absence. The air crackled almost naturally around her whilst her brooding thoughts tore their way through her mind.

Somewhere during her travels, she didn't know when or how, something had planted itself firmly in her mind. It had crawled it's way into her consciousness and haunted her with every decision she made; it was her paranoia in itself, in a sense. It became a monster too large to stay in a simple corner in her mind. It's stagnant nature slowly became more and more dominant until it devoured what was left of herself and engulfed the entirety of her being.

But then, perhaps, she thinks to herself from time to time when sanity hesitantly returns, she had let it take it's dominance. Perhaps it was her choice to let go of old inhibitions and restrictions and cave in to her inner darkness. Or, perhaps - though she would never admit it to herself - it was the person who had created the seed and nurtered it into growing into the monster it was now - Kreia.

What ever the consequences or reasons presently, it no longer mattered. She had given herself up to the darkness and nothing would prevent her from indulging in her sweet sickness.

Of course there were sacrifices to be made to get to where she was now. There were always sacrifices; in the war, in the Force, in life. But the ones she had made were petty, and admittedly did not make a difference in the long run.

It wasn't even hard. They had made it so easy, always being so accepting and trusting. They hadn't even suspected.


	2. Atton: Regret

**I hate you for the sacrifices you made for me.**

**Atton - Regret**

Atton was befuddling. Why did he do the thing's he did? He helped Meetra off Peragus, he stayed with her after Telos, he even offered his undying loyalty and protection after a time was spent together traveling. Truly, it wasn't in his nature to be accepting or trusting; especially when it came to Jedi. How, then, was it that all these occurences happened? When asked about it he had answered her, a little unsure of it himself, "I don't know. It's different with you. You have this.. lure that seems to draw people in. I guess I was just another victim."

He had made unnecessary sacrifices for needless reasons that didn't make sense, even when he came out and assured her himself. He should have left after Peragus. He should never have sworn an oath to protect her. He especially should not have gotten in the way.

It was the Sith Tomb on Dxun. Meetra and a few other companions had gotten lost in the endless abyss of the planet's jungle and had accidentally stumbled upon the ancient temple. Kreia had advised to stay away from it entirely, and that in itself was reason enough for Meetra to enter, for it was at that time that she had been going through a spiteful phase. If Kreia had told her not to jump off a canyon she would have done it merely to disobey her.

Meetra had entered, and when she did she was met with some of her greatest trials. It was there that the seed inside of her grew tenfold, as if the darkness from the place had seeped into her soul, and it was there that Atton had earned a great scar in his abdomen for saving Meetra from a fatal blow. If it were not for others, Meetra may have left him there to die. She had felt strangely apathetic, looking down on him as he lay there dying, and she knew he noticed. He noticed the look in her eyes and how she didn't move to help him. He noticed that it was Mira who protected him from getting slashed to death and he noticed that it was Visas who carried him back to the Ebon Hawk. He noticed that it was Mical who tended to his wounds and he noticed that it was The Handmaiden who came in to check if he was alright. He noticed that something had changed in her that day.

Yet he did nothing. He made no motion to stop protecting her. He made no motion to abandon her or try to save her from the slowly growing darkness, even though he knew it was adamantly there. He never spoke anything on the issue, in fact, he barely spoke at all after then. It was as if a lock had been placed on his lip's, or as if he had been cleanly wiped of anything to possibly say. A part of him, it was obvious, had died. He was silent and dark crescent moons eventually settled under his eyes from lack of sleep, as if to announce that she had sucked his life from him. He had paled a bit from never exiting the cockpit unless Meetra was to leave the ship and his person seemed glaringly numbed, if the way he stared at a wall blankly for hours said anything. And yet he still never said anything. Still he protected her to the best of his ability, albeit the snarky remarks to her opposition thinned.

But it was that protection that made her angry. It was that dull glimmer of life in his eyes whenever he looked at her that made her feel a fury she had never experienced before. She hadn't known why, and that made her frustrated, which only added to all the negative emotions she felt concerning him. Maybe it was all because of the first thing she had thought: Atton was befuddling. He confused her. She didn't understand the sacrifices that he seemed to give her endlessly and that made her feel livid.

In the beginning it hadn't mattered. His sacrifices were a good thing to have around when the enemies came to the front lines, but as the sacrifices progressed and the seed inside her got bigger and bigger it just became a nuisance. She hated it. She hated _him_. She should have killed him on Peragus.

**+-.+-+.-+**

It started out as nothing. When he had first seen her he had felt a certain kind of attraction, but certainly nothing more. He had looked upon her with the eyes of a bartendee who had seen the latest catch, or, even more base, he had looked upon her with the eyes of someone seeing a way out of debt. It was in this way he had convinced her to let him out of his cell so he could be free and rid of the encagement. Could he have just killed her and gotten off the station himself? Definitely. Being an assassin had it's perked as well as it's regrets. Plus, who would care if she died? Who would be there to notice? Everyone else was dead. Why would she be any different? However, when the opportunity struck and the thought had been placed in his mind, he had not acted on it. He had remained still and left her to live.

Later, when they had long gotten off Peragus and were leaving the Academy on Telos, he had noticed for the first time the possible reason he did not kill her in the mining facility. He noticed her lure. There was something about her, a greatness within her being, that made you want to please her. She made you want to do thing's you would never have done or even thought about doing before. He didn't comprehend it and felt it law for him to understand. So he persuaded himself that he would stay to figure out her lure, and once he was done, he would leave and let her drown in whatever problems he left behind.

However, it didn't turn out that way. More time progressed and he found himself focusing less on his imaginary goal and more on being enthralled with her. The longer he spent by her side the more pieces of him fell into her possession until finally he had nothing left.

Nar Shadaa was the turning point. By the end of the battle on G0T0's yaht he found himself completely taken away. He would bow to her will even if she killed him, because it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He had realized then, after he helped save her from the Gang Lord, that she _was_ the center of the galaxy. She _was_ the Force. She_ was_ life. She _was_ everything anyone and everyone had ever known. She _was_ all there ever had been and all there ever would be. It was these thoughts that led him to the conclusion on why he felt the lure; why _anyone_ felt the lure. It was because she _was_ these thing's that everytime she was beat down she would come back ten times stronger. It was _because_ she was these thing's that no one could resist her unless forcibly. It was _because_ she was these thing's that she was the light of the galaxy; his light.

And then it happened. She shattered his revelations and conclusions; she broke down the world he had created especially for her where she was the only existence. It was when she spoke to him about his past that a feeling he had never quite known began gnawing away at him. It replaced the feeling of peace and understanding that he had felt when he came to all his conclusions and it was completely inescapable. It drove him to near insanity; his thoughts were all that consumed him. He stared at seemingly nothing for hours simply trying to hunt down the particular emotion; he spent innumerable night's without sleep, for sleep would not find him until he knew what it was.

His curiosity had always been a problem, except for when it came to work and orders. That was the single one time that he never stretched for the meaning behind the reason; it was the single one time he simply enjoyed his great sin and bathed in it's delight, meaning felt or not.

It was a couple weeks after the second great turning point in his life - the battle in the Tomb on Dxun - that he realized fully what it was. The actions Meetra had shown that day had broken a wall in him; made him more numbed to the world and changed his perception of the whole galaxy. He now only had to completely break down that wall, and when he did, the swollen force of unkempt truth hit him and left him with a new kind of revelation.

The emotion he felt was regret.

And suddenly he realized the real reason for Meetra's lure. It wasn't any of his former delusions; not peace, not understanding, not kindness. It was his regret. Somehow, in the midst of all his mislead thinking, his subconscious had realized the real reason and had been waiting for the rest of him to realize it, too. He stayed with Meetra and swore an oath to protect her not out of loyalty or kindness, but out of his own self-centered preservations. He felt by staying with her and slaughtering whoever she pointed to would be his atonement; he felt by being her right hand she could bring him the salvation he so craved, but only if he protected her and obeyed her wishes. He was eager to please and to serve, and it was not because of his previous reasons. He had finally understood the meaning behind the reason and he accepted it.

However, by the time he realized it and came out of his coma, Meetra was changed. But that didn't matter to him. He supposed that she had always been that way and the only reason he noticed now was because he knew the truth. Nothing was different. He just understood. So he continued to serve and obey and bow to her will to the best of his ability, unknowing of how she had changed and uncaring of how she began to act. He felt regret, and that is why he continued to sacrifice for her.


	3. Brianna: Uselessness

**I hate you for every time you ever bled for me. **

**Brianna - Uselessness**

Brianna. The Last Handmaiden. She was simply another angering frustration.

In the beginning, she had favored her among the others of her kind at the acadamy on Telos because she was different.

Looking back, Meetra can see that she favored Brianna for her weaknesses. Underneath all her kind words and fake heretical speeches was the underlying passion that burned silently inside her: she was amused by Brianna. She laughed at her frail existence and delighted in the fact that she was different and essentially useless. Never had she wanted Brianna to join her, though. Never had she expected the Echani would be found on the ship after takeoff. Even as a pretender of the light she had not the desire for the girl to join her. And yet, even as Meetra was shocked and angered, the words, "You can stay," fell out of her mouth.

Time passed, just as it always does and always will. But even as time continued moving forward, Brianna and Meetra's relationship never did.

At least, not until Dantooine. Dantooine was the first time crimson ribbons had fallen from the Echani warrior for taking a blow for Meetra. It was as if something had clicked in Brianna, and the next time her and Meetra sparred, the exile was bombarded with questions by the younger girl. Never had they talked so much until then. It was the contingency of their relationship and it was what furthered more blood bath's down the road.

When the blood first started shedding, Meetra had thought it horrible and awful - and yet there was still that small section of her that laughed at it. As the seed inside her grew bigger and bigger and slowly morphed into the creature it is today, Meetra found herself caring less and less about the Handmaiden's health and well-being. Given that, she sooner rather than later found herself watching especially for when the girl would bleed; for she secretly enjoyed watching her suffer.

But there were always contrivances. As much as there was an adamant part of her that enjoyed Brianna's pain, the larger part of her was angered by it. How dare the girl even say she was a part of Meetra's crew? How dare she say she was helping the exile when she was getting hurt all the time? Brianna was weak, always weak; and that weakness was what angered Meetra the most. Such a useless being didn't deserve to bleed for her. She should have kicked Brianna out the airlock when she caught her being a stowaway.

**+-.+-+.-+**

She was the end. She was the very last Handmaiden. She was the despised child; the one that didn't quite fit into the puzzle. She was the odd piece that made the entire picture look weird, the miscreate. The unwanted accident.

It was because of her accidence that she was doomed to live the life of the unwanted girl.

Sure, she was skilled. She trained for nine hours straight every day and never stopped unless there was an emergency, though in such case she would not be called upon, anyway. She kept her mind focused on only one thing: acceptance. She would prove to her sisters and Atris that she was worthy to have a name, a place. She would make them want her. She would become the best fighter any Echani had ever seen; she would become all to be desired in a weapon. But the day of acceptance never came. Her sisters never accepted her. In fact, as time went on, they shunned her more and more. Atris never gave her a place, only a demanded hope.

And then Meetra came. She waltzed into the academy like she knew it her entire life and then, without even trying, she put Atris in her place. She was so sure of herself that it shocked Brianna. Meetra knew exactly who she was and didn't care what the opinion of others were. However, the momentary shock that collided with her was nothing compared to what had happened next. Atris had asked her to go with her and perform a luxuriously malevolent deed. It was the deed she had been waiting for her entire life; it was her ticket to acceptance. Of course she did what Atris asked. How could she decline?

At first it was all a matter of business. She would spy on The Exile and continue to train eight hours as she always did. When she had completed her assignment, she would return to Atris and be accepted. That's all there was to it.

But that wasn't all there was to it. There was more, far more.

It started with small thoughts planted by Meetra. Those small thoughts evolved into epiphanies, and those epiphanies evolved into something more than a revelation or understanding.

The law that she had always lived by, to defend and serve, had vanished the moment she had actually gone out on the battlefield for the first time. She lost all mind or thought and delved into the fight; she became the warrior she was always meant to be. When she surfaced from her instinctual animosity, she realized for the first time that there might be something more to the horrid thing called 'offense', and that there might also be something more to the term 'defense'.

Meetra only furthered these speculations. She convinced Brianna that offense was a needed thing in the current galaxy, and once she was convinced, the door that was shut and locked tightly in Brianna's heart opened, and she became the fighter she had never allowed herself to be in the past. Every battle, experience, fight, spar, and violent excursion brought up more key's to door's Brianna hadn't known existed. The more door's she opened, the more her curiosity grew; the more doors she opened the more she realized new information about herself and the all ones she ever knew. The one realization that stood above the other's, though, took longer to soak in.

But it was noticeable. It was noticeable by others and eventually, even herself.

The first time she began the speculation was the first time she had bled for someone else in her life. It was an interesting thing. When it happened, she almost didn't know what it was. Bleeding was nearly a foreign thing, being as there were no real combatants to spar with at the academy on Telos and being as she had never experienced a full-on fight until she joined Meetra. It happened on Dantooine during the fight against Azkul and his mercenaries. The merc boss had evidently decided a blaster wouldn't work and resorted to a vibroblade, planning to stab Meetra in the back and kill her. It seemed the only one to notice had been Brianna, and the moment she did, she was there in front of Meetra and ready to do the thing she had been trained to do her entire life: defend. It was unfortunate, though, that her power staff had been knocked away from her and stolen by a merc in the adjacent area while she fought her previous opponent. She therefore had to resort to what she knew best: hand-to-hand combat. On instinct, she had raised an arm to block his blow. The vibroblade had then proceeded to sink into her forearm and cause major blood loss. But the blood loss hadn't made her weaker, it had done the opposite. It had unlocked an animalistic part of her that she had never known before; a cold, calculating ferocity that she fed on.

That was the first time she had begun to speculate exactly the concept of defense. 'Defense' had never seemed especially important to her, though it was her life. She knew it was special and that it was supposed to be used in place of offense and she knew that it was the only thing allowed at the academy, but she had never found anything especially intriguing about it. Now, though, it held an absolutely addictive seduction that she found she could not stay away from. It was different from the defense she had grown up with, though it definitely seemed to be the same.

The first encounter with blood earned from defense multiplied. A second encounter became a fourth encounter, a fourth encounter became an eighth encounter. After awhile, she came to wonder if the encounter's were coincidence or if they were secretly set up by herself. It didn't seem impossible. She learned quickly that she craved that blood. She wanted to be there to defend Meetra and she wanted to have the scars and the blood to prove it. They were her objects of activity and she wore them with pride.

She hadn't the slightest why it was like this until the day she returned with Meetra to kill Atris and take down her sisters. While Meetra walked by to go achieve her own goal, Brianna was left with hers. Sure, defense she craved, but she now kept the knowledge that offense was fun. So when she stepped into battle with her sisters, she didn't feel bad knowing she was murdering the ones she had been raised with, she didn't have any remorse and didn't even feel odd doing it. Once all her sibling's lay dead on the ground before her, all she could feel was the still-fuming energy from a brilliant and enjoyable battle. After the deed was done, however, that speculative curiosity came itching back almost instantly. Her sisters were defending, weren't they? Or at least they were supposed to have been. But looking at their defense and comparing it to hers, they were as different as black and white. But _why_ was it different from hers? Seeing it now, blatantly in front of her eyes, she felt that she could understand it. But it was like something you've forgotton and just can't quite remember. As soon as she felt like she almost understood it, the almost-understanding fled from her and she had to rebuild her thoughts and structure all over again.

It was Meetra, of course, that brought her to her solid conclusion, as always. It was the final door that was opened up for her. When Meetra came back and brought the news that Atris was dead, the key to the last door was opened and the thoughts she tried again and again to rebuild came flooding to her as if it were obvious the entire time.

The two were indeed different. Her sisters defense was based on uselessness; it was brought up only to be an imitation of the real thing. Brianna, as her original self, was a cheap copy of their imitation. She knew fighting techniques very well; she knew combat in and out; she was the best in her class. But what was it for? A woman that pretended she knew the secrets of the galaxy, and that because of her actress traits, needed protection? In all their life, neither Brianna or her sisters had defended Atris from anything. And when the opportunity rose, the sisters let the supreme threat walk right past them so they could battle the lesser: Brianna; who, in all reality, was not a threat at all. The defense shared with Meetra was completely different. It served a purpose. It was useful. Brianna defended her from the strongest opposing threats and fought alongside her willingly. But it wasn't because she felt anything for the person she was defending, it was because of the feeling's behind it. There was something to gain from defending Meetra; the thing Brianna had coveted her entire life: purpose. For once in her life, what she was doing was useful. She was useful. Until she had joined Meetra, she had been useless. She had been the most useless of them all, being the mistake to the puzzle.

Meetra gave her a purpose, _was_ her purpose; and for that, Brianna needed her. Brianna felt useless without her, and it was for that reason she continued to bleed.


	4. Mical: Guilt

**I hate you for the way you smile when you look at me.**

** Mical - Guilt**

He was disgusting.

She had been happy to meet an old friend again, when it started. She became unnaturally fond of it. First Bao-Dur, then Mical? Pleasant reunions were few and far in-between, so it was the only thing she could do to feel overjoyed. It helped that he smiled whenever he saw her. It made her feel special; wanted. She sometimes, secretly, visited him just so she could earn that smile saved especially for her. It was her favourite pastime and she would absolutely never admit it.

There were others, of course, that smiled at her. But Mical's was special. He had a smile saved solely for her and she loved it.

Then, just like seemingly everything else that's ever been for her, it changed. Thing's never stayed the same in her world, but rather they always shifted in appearance; Mical was just another one of these always-changing objects.

Somewhere over the lapse of time his smile seemed exceedingly secretive and worried, moreso that it had ever been before. Of course, he had always carried a slight air of worry around him, but it never bothered Meetra. It was natural. But the day it changed it was sickening. She had just walked in from the battle on Onderon and needed medical assistance from her smiling Disciple. However, when she walked in and he did indeed perform the known tradition, she didn't smile back like she usually did. It would have been brushed off for exhaustion had it not been for the obvious feeling of disgust she felt when she saw his gentle face. It was new to her, to feel as such towards one of the few people left on the ship that held her favour. But the mild shock she felt wasn't really all that persistent, and it fell dull after only a few seconds. The newfound solace of hatred was something she was slowly becoming accustomed to by then, and maybe, somewhere inside.. She actually enjoyed it.

She expected that once she stopped smiling back that he would stop too, for he only did it because she returned the task. And perhaps she had hoped he would stop, so he would be saved from her fiery malice. Those thoughts were soon evaporated by his still warm and gentle smile that he gave her, even though she never smiled back. Even if she sneered or scowled or got angry he would still remain serene and smile for the exiled Knight, and that only made her furious. He shouldn't be allowed the privelege of being so warm or kind or gentle when she didn't like or want any of it. He was sickening to her and she hated him. She should have left him to his eventual fate by the Laigreks on Dantooine.

**+-.+-+.-+**

She was falling. He could tell. She was falling fast and there wasn't really much Mical could do about it. He could try, try the hardest he possibly could, to convince her to change her way's before it was too late, but he had seen this path before and he knew how it ended.

Plus, in the long run, was he truly any different?

So all he does is smile. Because smiling, really, means that he can't do anything about it even though he wishes he could. He learned that the hard way.

It was genuine at first, of course. He was reintroduced to his teenage idol to meet an entirely new person - a grown woman with an enhanced version of the leadership she possessed the last time they had met; a healthy, good-looking ex-Jedi with time resting loyally on her shoulders as her heaviest burden. In his own boyish way, he was still the young teen who had a crush on his upperclassman, and so it was only natural for him to smile upon seeing her appearance. It was like spring again and it melted the frozen lake inside his heart; a brilliant rest from life. But that didn't last for long, and he should have known. Years of trial and tribulation should have taught him that simple innocence never lasted forever, if at all. When reality kicked in again and he was forced to continue to give procedure reports to the Republic about the Exile's whereabouts, that's when the surface on the lake inside him froze over again.

Everytime he saw Meetra it was like a child being slapped for touching it's favourite toy. Then again, it was a borrowed toy, and he therefore had to be very careful with it. And that is exactly what Mical was: careful. He was careful because if he said the wrong thing, took the wrong step, made the wrong move, he might lose, break, or damage that borrowed toy, and he couldn't afford to do that.

So he was careful. But it made him feel horrible.

He still smiled whenever he saw her, sometimes genuinely for the mere activity of seeing her, sometimes to cover up his actions. And for awhile, it worked. She smiled back at him and never once questioned him and he continued to be as careful as he possibly could. But behind his warm smiles, the icy surface inside was still antarctic and it ate him up.

He wasn't so inexperienced with emotions that he didn't know why he felt so horrible. He knew what he was feeling: guilt. Guilt was eating him up like a thousand Kashyykkian hunger beetles and he couldn't stop it because, really, how could he feel otherwise while he betrayed her regularly behind her back? Betrayal in itself was one thing, but betrayal in secrecy was something different entirely and he knew it.

But then it stopped. Whenever he smiled, he waited for her to smile back, naturally. But she stopped. She didn't smile at him whenever he graced her with his and she didn't spend nearly as much time with him as she used to. She stopped smiling and he started drowning in the lake that seemed to have swallowed him whole.

But he still smiled. He smiled because she wouldn't, even if the upward curve of his lip's seemed slightly pained. He smiled because he thought it would help. Though, in reality - and he slowly realized this, too - he smiled because of his guilt. It became ritual. If he didn't smile, it would be a mental crime and more guilt would add to the pile. So in it's own way, it was his technique of preventing more freezing tempuratures just as it was his technique of saving himself from drowning completely in the lake. He felt guilt, so he kept smiling for her. Only ever for her.


	5. Kreia: Fear

**I hate you for never taking control of me. **

**Kreia - Fear**

Kreia was the slowest progression throughout all of Meetra's companions. She did not hate her like the others until her true form was introduced, but that was at the end, and at the end nothing mattered - not even her hate.

The day the Ebon Hawk fell onto Malachor's dark, rocky crevices was the day everything keyed in and made sense. It was at this time Meetra realized it didn't matter whether she was 'darksided' or not. She still had her cold calculating nature and no 'fall' could change that.

So was it that when the day came for Kreia to be revealed as her true self, she realized her becoming caliginous was not entirely her own doing, but rather heavily relied on Kreia. If it were not for the old master, Meetra might have stayed her affectionate self for years to come. It was in Trayus' core that she realized this.

She didn't regret becoming what she is now. She didn't regret it then nor in the present. But there was, however, a part of her that still felt angry. All that time she had been changing from her own self involuntarily and it wasn't even truly her fault. Kreia had stolen her away from herself and she had helped. Meetra's soul had been tainted; poisoned by the old hag and taken away with her believing it was all on her own. Why did Kreia have to fool her? Why couldn't she have just made it easier and control her into her own betrayal? At least then she could have proudly said that all that time she had still been herself. But no. She was fooled into believing she wanted to become what she was, and in the end, she no longer had to be fooled to believe. She did want it. And yet there was still that small, frail, insignificant area that will always stay in the deepest, most isolated place at the bottom of her being that was angry at Kreia for stealing her away from being good. She hated Kreia and adored her all at the same time for what she did, but in the end hate won over and consumed everything else like a wildfire. She should have killed her the moment the woman started babbling about 'we'.

She could have broken her so easily. She had always had the power to do so, and definitely the incentive. She could have twisted Meetra's mental frame to meet the proper capacity for the proper outfitting; could have made her just like any other puppet she had ever controlled. Meetra was powerful, yes, but when Kreia had found her, the woman had been a rag doll strewn on the floor and waiting for someone to pick her up. Kreia did so, of course; she had been planning so for years now. She had been waiting - searching for Meetra almost her whole life, so when she had finally found her it was like a jewel hunter finally capturing it's prey - it's very delicate, very broken, very beautiful prey. She was exactly everything she had hoped, and she was essentially hope in itself.

The Force, in reality, is a cruel being that controls everyone whether we accept it or not. Kreia knew this, but she neither accepted it nor lived in ignorance: she rebelled against it. She would not be controlled; would not be held down, manipulated and stung any more than she already had been. She would do exactly the opposite; she would do the impossible: she would strike down her enemy and pursue the fatal blow that would kill it. Meetra was her way to this victory. Meetra was the weapon to be used against this enemy that couldn't be defeated. Meetra _was_ her hope.

But as with all precious thing's, especially jewels like Meetra, there was the fear of losing it.

Of course she could never fully lose Meetra. She was bound to her for eternity until even after the grave and Meetra would never completely escape from Kreia's viselike grip. Rather, it was the fear that Meetra would lose her that made the ex-Jedi tremble in the deepest, most desolate places of her soul. If Kreia were to somehow be removed from the situation; if she were to somehow be disconnected from Meetra, well... all could be lost.

How convinced did she really have the exile? How far would the girl go once Kreia was gone? She needed Meetra to believe in her cause, not force her to oblige.

She never controlled Meetra because she was bound by fear; the fear that once she was gone Meetra would turn away from attacking the enemy. If she were to believe in defeating the opponent, on the other hand...

She was fearful, and that is why she never took control.


End file.
